Met the nicest lady from Florida on our first evening on board – we’ve become fast friends ever since.  She likes wine, has a great sense of humour, and likes making fun of the same people I do.

I have always felt ordering ‘champagne’ sounds pretentious (and often inaccurate), so I always ask for a sparkling wine or a Prosecco.  I asked for a Prosecco on the second evening and heard the waiter call for “champagne”.  I’m in France, for God’s sake – it’s champagne, Elaine – anything else is just rude!

Met a couple who think Fauci invented COVID and should therefore be jailed.

I really like the windows in our staterooms – the top half lowers and you can lean on them and look out, or pull down a screen and just let the fresh air in.

Met a lady (southern US, I think), who was surprised Canada wasn’t part of the United States anymore.

Rarely do you see kids on a river cruise.  This week there is a nice family made up of:  grandparents, Mum & Dad, 11-yr old and 13-yr old.  It occurred to me that of all the river cruises the Seine might be the most educational (and hopefully interesting), with a lot of 20th century history. 

The ladies who are awaiting luggage still (on day 7) have refused to buy any new/interim clothes.  Ehhhh.

There is a lovely Mother/Daughter team from Florida & Reno – Mum has some health issues but they have found a way to make the trip work.

This is the first trip in 20+ years where I haven’t kept a paper diary, hence these random thoughts,  to help me remember people and events that weren’t in any of the posts.

It was on a cruise years ago that I first started to notice couples who helped validate my opinions on marriage.  On this boat there is one couple where the husband and wife are each ruder than the other.  I truly cannot imagine talking to someone all day every day in the same tone of voice as the wife uses.

The final evening’s dinner was spent with all the nice people I met onboard: 2 women from Boston, 2 women from Manchester and NH from Sarasota.  We had a lovely time – I hope we stay in touch.

You know how girls who are new friends get together to talk about boys and braid each other’s hair? Well, that is so last year.  It seems in a post-COVID world, we now get together to do COVID self-tests.  Friday morning, after breakfast, 24 hours before my first flight, in NH’s room.

It turns out I’m negative! Yippee!

I can fly home tomorrow with a clear conscience.

Did I mention that I’m sick? It started three days ago, as sniffles. I assumed it was perhaps allergies? The trees are all in bud here, and even tho my seasonal allergies are usually hay-fever in mid-August, who knows? these are different trees and plants – maybe I’m allergic to them.
Then the sneezing started. Okay, so maybe a head cold. But now I started to get worried. I am masked all the time on board and on tours, but not when eating. Ditto the rest of the passengers.
Thursday I felt a tickle in my throat. Crap. This does not bode well. I avoided people all day, having lunch at an outdoor patio in Rouen, rather than in the boat’s enclosed dining room. And the first thing I did upon receiving my suitcase (other than cuddle and carress it for five minutes) was a COVID test. Negative. Whew.
But by Friday night, it had turned into full blown laryngitis. I carried a series of notes to show people – one stated: LARYNGITIS – but don’t worry – my COVID test was negative; and another one said: Une champagne SVP ( I still have my priorities).

I went to bed very worried – what if it’s COVID & I can’t get home. I mean it’s not like the trip hasn’t already been one disaster after another – this would just be the icing on the cake.

Last night I wore two different outfits, just because I could (not simultaneously, of course – one for cocktails, and one for dinner). The three other ladies-sans-valises were both happy for me and a tad jealous.
Ditto today: my lounge-around-the-boat-as-we-cruise ensemble of the morning was different from my touring-Versailles outfit in the afternoon. No reason, just ’cause.

Of the three different tours one could do in Versailles, I opted for Marie Antoinette’s Petit Trianon & little hamlet. I’ve toured the palace before, and while I would have loved to have wandered the gardens (the last time I was here the gardens had been decimated by storms), this sounded more interesting.
And it was – a good guide, spectacular weather, and minimal crowds. The flowers have all started blooming and the little vegetable gardens had rows and rows of tiny lettuces and budding herbs and sprouts. Those aristocrats were something; until Louis XV came along, the nobility didn’t eat anything that grew in the ground – that was for peasants. They ate meat and fruit (not even any dairy really either) and that was pretty much it. But Louis XV started a vegetable garden and also made eating cheese and cream more the “In” thing.

It was the gala dinner in the evening – I think they must be short-staffed in the dining room – for the second time in 3 days I witnessed a waiter making his impatience with the guests very obvious?!?!
Was introduced to a quiet little bar at the back of the ship that I hadn’t seen before – how is it possible that I, Elaine Reid, missed a bar? Sacré Bleu !

I commented to someone that I was surprised at the percentage of Americans on this trip – there are 110 guests and of those: 4 are Canadian, 2 are British, 2 Brazilian, 2 from Singapore, and 2 from East Asia. That is unusual on these cruises; there is often more of a balance among nationalities. She pointed out that today is all about D-Day and the Normandy Invasion – it only makes sense at the larger percentage from the US. For today Uniworld organized 2 specific full-day excursions: one that focuses solely on US beaches and memorials, and one that focuses on Commonwealth beaches – the latter is a much shorter tour, so they add in the Bayeux Tapestry. I nearly went on the tour just for that; I would have loved to have seen it. But the beaches and the war don’t really interest me, I feel there is enough war in the world at the moment without my spending a whole day re-visiting one, and the bus trip was 6 hours (round trip), so 11 hours doing things I didn’t want to do just for 60 minutes at the tapestry didn’t make sense to me.
Instead I stayed in Rouen and wandered around. Jeez, these people were church-mad in the Middle Ages – at one point I thought I had got lost and ended up back at the same cathedral I had just visited, but then realized that, no, it was just another massive, yet equally stunning stone church less then 3 blocks from the cathedral. They are all very beautiful – I like thinking about the artisans and craftsmen who built these churches – altho the buildings are not to my taste, they are very, very beautiful. I had planned on dining in L’epicurius, a one-star Michelin starred restaurant (the website said open), but the sign on the door said closed for Easter week. Ah well, there was a creperie next door, so I sat on the terrasse, surrounded by locals, and had a lovely ham & cheese gallette and a glass of rosé. So French.

Eventually it was time to go back and unpack my suitcase. (I think we all know what’s coming next, don’t we?) Back onboard – no luggage.
It was 3:30 – we called the transport company who advised us that indeed, my suitcase was in Rouen. Yay! And they would deliver it tomorrow. Boo! We explained the boat would be gone by then, and were met with the telephonic version of the Gallic shrug. Qu’est-ce qu’on peut faire?

I asked if I could come and get it and was told, bien sûr. So the boat called me a taxi and off we went. 40 minutes to a little village in the middle of nowhere (I really thought he was trying to scam my fare) to the Chronopost outlet. They looked at me blankly when I asked for my suitcase. “No madame, il n’y a pas de valise ici.” When I just stood there, staring, she tried to explain in very broken English. “Non,” I said in French, “I understood you, I just can’t believe you”. She went on her system and said, oh yes, madame, Chronopost does have your suitcase, but not here in Crichebeuf; it’s in Petit Quevilly. Of course it is. I got back in the taxi (the meter was already at 60 Euros) and off we went. We drove and drove, and next thing I knew I was at a warehouse 5 minutes away from our boat, just across the river. My suitcase & I were re-united (it was a touching moment). And I headed back to our ship. That 1 & 1/2 hour, €118 trip could have been 20 minutes and €15. Ach weel, I have my clothes. Let me just say it again: I HAVE MY CLOTHES!
*Just to wrap up the Normandy beaches story – the others returned late in the evening and said it had been an informative, interesting and very moving day, so that’s nice.

Wednesday morning: Caudebec en Caux is a pretty little town, but I think we are here simply because it is the furthest downstream that cruise ships go. Bussed over some spectacular bridges and through amazing countryside to Honfleur. Many of the houses along the way were thatched – it seems they plant flowers along the ridgepoles of the roofs to keep the top layer of thatch from getting damaged – hunh.

Honfleur really was lovely – tall, narrow houses against a cliff face, a harbour full of boats, art galleries by the dozens, winding cobbled streets. I’m not a big shopper, so instead I went in and out of the smaller art shops and galleries. Ever since a revelatory experience in San Francisco years ago, I’ve found going into an art shop and asking about one or two pieces leads to a bit of a tour/lecture by the shop owner, and you come away knowing far more about art than if you had visited a major gallery or museum.
Back to Caudebec for some time on our own – the church in Caudebec is absolutely stunning. Very old, almost all wood inside, and I easily spent an hour wandering around it. I tend to give most churches a cursory once over – they can be somewhat overwhelming, and the guides drone on and on, so this was the first time in a while that I’d really spent dans une église.

Still no luggage, but I did receive an email from the transport company telling me my ‘colis’ (parcel) would arrive between 1 & 3 tomorrow (I checked; they had exactly the right boat name, exactly the right address, and exactly the right contact info – clean clothes, here you come!!)

I posted that last one just before lunch, having resigned myself to a luggage-less trip.

No. No. I don’t accept that. I am not taking this lying down. British Air owes me a suitcase, dammit. First I emailed the twit at BA Baggage in London who suggested I get in touch with the courier directly and suggested that “as it was British Air that lost my suitcase, I am going to suggest that you get in touch with the courier directly”. I translated a set of instructions with address, phone number, and a pointed yet polite message setting my expectations, and told the guy from London to send that when he gets in touch the courier to use my message.

Then I phoned BA Paris and informed the clerk that his options A or B (see previous post) were unacceptable, and I expected to receive my suitcase by noon on Thursday, when we would be in Rouen (all day, right in the centre of town, easy to find, not moving for hours, no excuses about ‘missing the boat’). D’accord.

An hour later I received my first official-looking email from British Air: a form with locator codes, baggage codes, the correct Rouen address, dates, and times. Pushing back worked – I think we’re getting somewhere. Hah! (that ‘hah’ is of course the triumph of hope over experience)

I have a much better feeling about the courier’s ability to find the boat today – we’re right in middle of town, easy to spot. My luggage should arrive soon. Ummm, not so fast, toots.
I was here about 7 or 8 years ago, but due to one thing or another, the only places I visited were pharmacies. We passed both of those pharmacies on our walking tour – nice to see they’re still doing well.

Our tour was fascinating. Like many European towns, the conversation started about destruction during the war and the subsequent re-construction, all very interesting and eye-opening. But then we turned a corner, and we went back 600 years.
Cobbled streets, open marketplace, true half-timbered houses and shops, a massive stone cathedral, a tiny wooden church. Absolutely wonderful. We’re back here on Thursday and I can’t wait to re-visit the places the guide showed us and really soak the town in. Everyone promised me Rouen was beautiful and it hasn’t disappointed.

I have been receiving texts and emails from British Air telling me to contact the Parisian Courier company directly. Then when I got back from the tour I got a call from BA Baggage in Paris, telling me Rouen was too far, and I had two options: pick up my bag at Charles De Gaulle on my way home, or have it shipped to my house in Scotland. Ever the one for an easy life, I picked option A and will get it on the way out of town. So, I’m stuck with just what I’m in now (I could go shopping but I hate shopping and that’s not what I came to France for).
Ah well.

Monday: We have sailed to La Roche Guyon, only 30 minutes downriver from Paris. No reason they can’t have my bag to me by time of sailing at noon. Well, so I thought.

On the upside, what a lovely village. I have seen many many castles, chateaux, and churches on my cruises (dubbed ‘ABC cruises’ by an Aussie friend – another bloody church, another bloody castle etc…). But this place was stunning, and very different – as well as its long significance in France’s history, it was Rommel’s headquarters in the latter part of the war.
Then on to Vernon and Giverny. Again, not far from Paris, and plenty of time for the courier to find us (one would think).

It turns out there are three other women whose luggage hasn’t shown up. Like me, they are being tantalized with promises of next stop, next stop. They are with Air France, and as Uniworld booked their flights, the boat is following up. But the boat doesn’t seem to be getting any better results than I am, so . . .
The courier did phone me today and even though he clearly understood my French, he said an anglophone would call me back in 30 minutes. J’attends encore.
Vernon is a perfectly nice river town, with pretty little streets, half-timbered buildings, and of course, a church. I’ve decided I can go no longer in the same clothes I have been wearing since Saturday morning at 6am, so I’m going shopping.
It’s Monday. That may seem like a non sequitur to you, but for anyone who has ever spent time in a small European village, you will know that there is always a weekday where shops don’t open. Here, it is Monday. Splendid. Turns out there are two clothing shops and a Monoprix (supermarket) that are open, so I loaded up on socks, undies, and some outerwear. Of course, one of the shops only took cash, so I did have to go back to the boat for a debit card (it’s always something).

Every return to the boat is done with a sense of anticipation – every return is met with disappointment.
This evening was The Captain’s Welcome Gala – I rather self-consciously showed up in my ‘chic’ cheap new jeans, plain top, and my same old, same old hiking boots. But no matter what I had worn, I would have paled in comparison to the one socialite all in spangles and stilettos.
Tomorrow is Rouen – a big town near a highway – luggage will arrive tomorrow.

Sunday evening: the boat is lovely: the S.S. Joie de Vivre. We’re a couple of miles north of the Eiffel Tower. I had planned on spending the afternoon walking around the city, but now I’m just waiting on a fresh set of clothes.
Still nothing by 5:30. I’m sitting by a window, staring at every car or van that pulls into the parking lot by the quay, and drinking champagne (so maybe not a total wreck of a day).
6:15 and the captain has just finished his speech and has gone above to take off – the courier has 15 minutes. (if, as British Air advises, the bag arrived at Charles de Gaulle by 3pm, how is possible that it’s not here?)
6:32 – we’re sailing. No suitcase. I have just texted our next 2 stops to BA. Here’s hoping.

Oh, and my stateroom had 2 toothbrushes. I am now the proud owner of at least a half a dozen toothbrushes.